The Fighter Queen

by John Bowers

  He triggered the flare and dropped it into the hole. The basement room was bathed in sudden brilliance, and a moment later a woman moved into view, looking up. Her clothing looked tattered and worn, but there was no mistaking that face. Although four years older and a good ten Terra pounds lighter than Onja, she was almost her twin. Her blue eyes glittered with tears as she peered up at them.

  "Come up the steps," Meyer told her calmly. "No one is going to hurt you."

  "Wait!" Onja said. "It's too dangerous up here. Let me go down."

  Meyer hesitated, considering. "Okay, but be careful."

  Onja, now that she could see the steps leading down, swung her legs over the side. When she reached the bottom she turned and stared into the face she hadn't seen in twenty-seven years. Her older sister stared back, lips curved in a smile of incredulity. She held both hands to her own cheeks as she stared at the younger woman, then reached out and placed them on Onja's face.

  "Onja!" she sobbed. "I don't believe it! How did you find me? How could you find me? My goddess! What are you doing in that … in that uniform?"

  Onja kissed her full on the lips, then hugged her tightly as they both wept helplessly, crying and laughing at the same time. Meyer and Johnny climbed down to join them, staring at the two sisters who hadn't seen each other since they were children.

  "I'll explain it all to you later," Onja promised as Sonja held her at arm's length and looked her up and down. "There's a whole lifetime to catch up on, but we have the rest of our lives to do it."

  "You said there were others down here," Meyer said to Sonja. "Where are they?"

  Sonja turned and called to the other end of the room.

  "Come on out," she said. "It's okay. It's safe."

  From behind a false wall a smaller figure squeezed out, staring cautiously at the group by the ladder, eyes wide, and moved slowly toward them. Onja stared in disbelief at the teenage girl who gazed back at her with lime-green eyes. Except for the green eyes, it was like looking in a mirror twenty-two years earlier — the girl was almost a duplicate.

  "This is Tonja," Sonja said. "But we call her Missie."

  "My god!" Onja whispered. "I could have met her on any planet in the galaxy and I would have known who she was! She looks exactly like you!"

  "She looks like us." Sonja laughed. "She's a Pedersen, through and through. Missie, this is your Aunt Onja. I told you about her. Remember?"

  The girl stared suspiciously at Onja, who took her hands and kissed them.

  "You are gorgeous!" Onja told her. "A true Vegan girl."

  "I'm a Sirian," the girl replied coldly.

  "She's a little confused," Sonja apologized. "She was raised by Sirians."

  "It doesn't matter. All that will get sorted out."

  A third person had approached and stood facing the group, a woman in her early sixties. Drawn and frightened, she looked uncertainly from one to the other.

  "This is Mistress Simonian," Sonja said. "She's my owner's wife."

  There was no rancor in the statement, just fact. Onja's eyes narrowed as she stared at the gaunt, grey-haired woman. What kind of woman would allow her husband to own a female slave?

  "Where is Mr. Simonian?" she asked.

  "We don't know. He was away when the Feddies reached the city, and he hasn't come back. We've been alone down here for almost a week."

  "I want to have a long talk with him if he shows up," Onja said, her voice cold.

  "Don't be too hard on him," Sonja pleaded. "He isn't a bad man."

  Onja stared at her sister as she tried to digest that, but before she could reply …

  A flurry of motion at the end of the room; Meyer spun, but was too late. A laser chirped and he skidded backward as the beam punched through his chest. His weapon clattered to the floor, then everything happened at once.

  Sonja and Mrs. Simonian screamed; Onja lunged sideways, shoving them both to the floor. Johnny's pistol came up instinctively, but before he could fire the girl grabbed it, trying to wrest it out of his hand. As they both crashed against the wall, a second shot blazed past an inch from Johnny's nose. Suddenly blinded, he was distracted enough that the girl jerked the pistol from his grip. With spots dancing before his eyes, he swung his fist in desperation, connecting with her temple and slamming her into the wall. She rebounded to the floor, face down, and lay still. Johnny fumbled for the weapon.

  As the second shot scored the wall behind her, Onja drew her pistol and snapped off a shot toward a shadowy figure at the end of the room. It was a clean miss. She drew the trigger for her next shot …

  "Don't kill him!" Sonja screamed in panic. "He's my son!"

  The words registered barely in time; Onja was able to deflect her shot, which narrowly missed his head. He screamed and leaped sideways, his ear scorched.

  "Adam!" Sonja shrieked. "Adaaaaam!"

  "Freeze, goddammit!" Johnny sat shakily on his knees, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, his laser pistol aimed at the youth against the wall. "Drop that rifle!"

  The Sirian stared uncertainly back at him, the rifle pointed at the floor. Johnny leaped up and rushed him, ripped the rifle out of his hand, then slugged him with all the rage and terror in his soul. Adam Simonian slammed into the wall and covered his face before Johnny could hit him again.

  Sonja ran to her son and threw protective arms around him, spinning around to eye her sister in panic.

  "Please! Don't kill him! He's just a boy!"

  "He may be a boy," Johnny said angrily, "but he just murdered one hell of a fine Star Marine!"

  "Please!" Sonja begged. "Please, Onja! Don't hurt him!"

  "Stop it, Mother!" Pvt. Simonian disentangled himself from his mother and stepped away from her, looking around in angry humiliation. He was bleeding from the mouth and hatred filled his eyes. "I don't need you to protect me. I'm a soldier, and I'll die for the Confederacy!"

  "You almost did!" Onja snarled, shoving her face right in front of him. "I almost burned your brains out. If you weren't my nephew I still would!"

  He thrust his jaw into her face.

  "In your belly, Feddie slut!"

  Furious, Onja slapped him sharply across the face twice, then grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back against the wall, pinching off his wind as she bared her teeth.

  "You stupid little fuck! You may be my nephew, but you are still a Sirian soldier, and I have killed more Sirian soldiers than you have ever seen! No goddamned snot‑nosed Confederate recruit is going to talk to me like that and live to tell about it, you hear me? If you ever speak to me like that again I will personally burn out your fucking heart! I am the goddamned Fighter Queen, and I kill Sirians because they're alive and for no other reason!"

  She was shaking when she finished, and he trembled with terror.

  "Onja!" Sonja whispered in horror. "You're the Fighter Queen?"

  Onja looked at her in surprise. "You've heard of me?"

  "Heard of you? My goddess! You're notorious! Everyone knows about you. There's a reward for killing you. Twenty million sirios."

  "Twenty?" Johnny said in surprise. "The last we heard it was ten."

  "It keeps going up. But it wasn't your name," Sonja said. "It was 'Korvik', or something like that."

  Onja pulled off her datatag and handed it to her sister. Sonja's eyes widened as she saw the name: Onja Kvoorik. Her mouth hung open in disbelief as she returned the tag.

  "I had no idea!" she whispered. "My baby sister, the Fighter Queen!"

  Onja sighed, glanced at Adam, then back at Sonja.

  "Explain to your son that he is one very lucky young man. But if he insists on acting like a Confederate soldier, someone will kill him." She looked at the boy again. "The war is almost over. It would be pretty damn stupid to die now if you don't have to. And very damn stupid to throw away your life for a lost cause."

  "The cause isn't lost!"

  This from the floor, where Tonja, eyes defiant, now propped herself on one elbow. But when they al
l stared at her, her lip trembled. Johnny walked back and took her arm, hauling her roughly to her feet. She glared at him with hate filled eyes.

  "You'd better get used to being a Vegan girl," Onja told her. "Being a Sirian hasn't got much of a future."

  "Vegan girls get raped!" Tonja replied defiantly.

  "Not any more," Johnny told her. "Fed soldiers don't rape any kind of girls. You don't have to be afraid any more." He looked at Adam. "And if you're smart, you'll take that uniform off and burn it. There are two more Marines outside, and if they see you they'll shoot first and ask questions never."

  Adam glared at him, but said nothing.

  "Johnny," Onja said, "you’d better bring those two down here. I think it would be safer if we holed up here until this area is clear. No point getting killed going back the way we came."

  Johnny nodded and went up the ladder. Onja turned to her sister.

  "If there are any more surprises here, Sonja, tell me now. You said there were only three of you, but there were four, and now a good friend of mine is dead."

  "There's no one else," Sonja whispered. "I'm sorry. I was afraid the soldiers would kill Adam. I didn't know he was going to do something stupid."

  Onja's eyes blazed. "You still have your son, Sonja." She pointed at Meyer's body. "But his mother just lost hers!"

  Sonja blinked back tears.

  "Let's all settle in. It may be a day or two before the Star Marines clear the streets up there. There's nothing for us to do until then."

  * * *

  Privates Frazier and Cranford were less than happy at the sight of Cpl. Meyer's body. They turned bloodthirsty eyes on the prisoner, Adam Simonian, and Cranford's rifle swung in his direction.

  "At ease, Private!" Onja warned, her porcelain brow furrowed. "This man is my prisoner, and he's unarmed!"

  "Sorry, Major, but Mark was my best friend. I suggest you step out of the way."

  With a cry, Sonja leaped in front of her cowering son. The girl moved in front of them both, her green eyes blazing. "Murderer!" she shouted.

  "I said at ease, Private!" Onja's laser pistol appeared two inches from Cranford's nose.

  "He's a Confed, Major! Scum of the universe." Tears slid down Cranford's cheek, forming a muddy rivulet. His chest heaved with emotion, primarily rage.

  "I gave you an order, Private," Onja said in a low voice. "Stand down!"

  "Begging the Major's pardon, Ma'am, but … you ain't a Star Marine. We take care of our own."

  "I've killed close to forty thousand Sirians, Private," Onja said evenly. "I think we can let this one go."

  "No, Ma'am, we can't. I can't."

  Behind Cranford, Frazier suddenly shifted his rifle to his shoulder, aiming between Onja and Cranford; the Simonian women screamed. Johnny Lincoln II jerked his own sidearm free and snapped it toward Frazier's head.

  "Freeze!" he barked.

  The four of them stood like that for an eternity — the Star Marines aiming at Adam Simonian, the fighter people aiming at the Marines.

  "You heard the Major!" Johnny said shakily. "Enough people died here already."

  Cranford's red-rimmed eyes focused on Johnny; behind him, Frazier glared with equal animosity, but held his fire.

  "Begging the Lieutenant's pardon," Cranford said slowly, voice heavy with sarcasm, "but you and the lady are out of place here. You do your fighting from a nice clean cockpit; we live in the dirt and fight these fuckers hand to hand. I suggest you put your gun away before you get hurt."

  "We're not Star Marines," Johnny admitted, "but we are on the same side. And we're officers."

  "Fuck you, flyboy!"

  "Drop the rifle," Onja repeated. "Don't make me tell General Osato that you disobeyed a superior officer."

  Cranford's eyes swung back to her. "Don't make me tell him that you shielded the enemy!"

  "You're not thinking straight, Private. Meyer knew the risk and he took it willingly. Don't tarnish his honor by doing this."

  Cranford blinked. More tears washed over the debris on his cheeks.

  "What do you know about his honor?" he whispered.

  "I know he was a fine man," she said softly. "A heroic man, a true Star Marine. He did his duty. And now it's time for you to do yours." She glanced at Frazier. "Both of you."

  Johnny waited with bated breath, terrified that he might really have to shoot. The Simonians were rigid with fear.

  Cranford stood immobile for half a minute, chest heaving. Frazier was silent, his rifle still aimed at Adam's head, his face an emotionless mask.

  Cranford suddenly swung his rifle upward, glaring at the prisoner.

  "You think you're a big man, shithead?" he snarled. "Hiding behind women! I hope you remember this for the rest of your life, fucker! Big man! Big soldier! Hiding behind women." He handed the rifle to Onja, but never took his eyes off Adam. "If the Major hadn't stopped me, I'd be wiping you off my shoe right now."

  Johnny's heart pounded with relief, but he looked at Frazier, who still hadn't moved. The two exchanged glares for another heartbeat, then Frazier lowered his rifle as well, wrapped an arm around Cranford, and led him away. Johnny's chest heaved as he lowered his weapon and looked at Onja. Her face was pale with stress, and he saw the same relief in her eyes. The Simonian women embraced the prisoner and began to sob.

  "I think we should bring the dead Marines down here," Onja suggested as she holstered her weapon. "If the enemy reoccupies the house and finds them, they may decide to search the basement."

  Johnny nodded, holstered his pistol, and went upstairs with Frazier.

  * * *

  The Simonians had been hiding in a prefab capsule behind a false wall, a shelter within a shelter. It was designed to protect the occupants from falling debris if the house should collapse, and was supposed to be fire resistant. To Johnny Lincoln's eyes, it wasn't very inviting.

  Built to accommodate six, it now held eight as Johnny, Onja, and the Star Marines crowded in and settled down to wait out the battle. The dead Marines rested in a locked storage closet, covered by blankets; should the enemy enter the basement, it would appear empty.

  The capsule was cramped. Four people sat against one side, the other four facing them. There wasn't room to stretch out, so anyone who wanted to sleep would have to do so sitting up. A chemical light cast a dim glow from one end, a small fan in the top circulated air. The air was stale with the Marines' sweat, Adam Simonian's fear, and just a whiff of the girl's Vegan perfume. Johnny closed his eyes and listened to his own heartbeat, wondering how long they would be trapped here. He longed for the cockpit of his PulsarFighter.

  Flanked by Adam and Mistress Simonian, Onja sat facing him. Sonja sat on Adam's right. Frazier and Cranford sat to Johnny's left, with the girl on his right. She hugged the end of the capsule, putting as much space between them as possible, her expression a mask of misery, her lips curled in a pout. Above them, the sounds of battle waxed and waned endlessly.

  Johnny's watch told him it must be daylight by now, but the hours dragged by. Sometime in early afternoon they heard voices above. Someone came down the steps into the basement, and the Star Marines stiffened. Cranford fingered a grenade, but no one made a sound. Finally they heard the intruder return to the main floor, and hearts began to beat again. Johnny swallowed and took a deep breath. To his right he heard a whimper.

  The girl was looking at him, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light.

  "You okay?" he asked quietly.

  "Go to hell!" she snarled, and turned away. He saw her wipe her eyes.

  Ten more hours crawled by. Sonja had cached a little food and distributed it among her "guests", but the Marines had their own rations and declined. Johnny and Onja ate a few crackers and a few strips of dried meat. The girl ate nothing at all. Twice Johnny caught her staring at him, but she looked away angrily each time.

  Some time after dark, the noise level spiked abruptly; they heard heavy engines in the street, and from directly above came the rapid th
under of a heavy machine gun. The whole house trembled under the concussion.

  Then a tornado hit — shrieking lasers, exploding ordnance, splintering wood, shattering glass. The capsule rocked around them as part of the house collapsed. Men were screaming.

  Johnny felt his heart beating in his throat as he glanced from one to another; Onja stared back without expression, Sonja made the Sign of the Cult, Adam Simonian stared upward with a sense of wonder. The Star Marines were panting heavily, as if ready to charge into battle, their helmets cocked as they also looked upward, trying to imagine what was happening outside. Mistress Simonian sat with her eyes closed, mouthing a Christian prayer.

  The noise subsided for a few minutes, but the ground trembled under the heavy fans of hovertanks.

  "They sound like ours," Frazier dared whisper. "Maybe our armor broke through."

  Before anyone could reply, an even bigger tornado struck — thundering autocannon, the scream of hovertank fans, heavy explosions; the ground heaved under crashing monsters.

  "Fuck!" Cranford breathed. "Sirian armor counterattack!"

  They heard buildings crashing around the neighborhood, the cries of dying men, the crackle of flames — and the steady thunder of heavy armor slugging it out. Johnny realized he'd never been more terrified in his life.

  Then it got worse. The ground shuddered as the rest of the house crashed down and they heard heavy treads directly above them. The firing increased in volume, deafening even inside their capsule, and Johnny realized that at least one hovertank was now sitting in the rubble, hammering away with autocannon. He wiped sweat from his face, his hand coming away grimy. A tremendous explosion deafened everyone, and they heard a raging inferno all around them. The capsule became a sauna. Johnny felt panic rising in his throat, but when he looked at Onja he saw only her stony blue gaze. That alone kept him from losing it.

  The girl broke for the exit, her contorted face and bared teeth betraying her panic; everyone grabbed at her, but with the strength of the insane, she reached the exit. She almost released the catch before Johnny seized her around the waist and dragged her back into her corner.

  "Stay put!" he yelled. "If you open that door we'll all be …"